


Quarantined

by songofthe52hertzwhale



Category: Dalton Academy Series
Genre: AU where they're in high school during the COVID-19 outbreak, Gen, M/M, Multi, Quarantine 2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:13:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23189803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofthe52hertzwhale/pseuds/songofthe52hertzwhale
Summary: Unrelated Stuart Trio-centric virus-quarantined fic, because what else am I gonna do with all this free time?
Relationships: Julian Larson-Armstrong/John Logan Wright III, Julian Larson-Armstrong/John Logan Wright III/Derek Seigerson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	1. "Real Couples"

**Author's Note:**

> On 17 March 2020, NYC mayor Bill de Blasio attempted to combat the spread of COVID-19 by banning all Uber/Lyft pool rides. All rides were one passenger per car, unless the passengers were a “real couple”.
> 
> and then Hannah said "someone write the fic".

“For fuck’s sake,” Logan rolls his eyes, one hand pulling at his hair, “This rule is ridiculous -- clearly we’ve all already been exposed to each other, it’s not gonna be any different if we’re sitting in the same car.”

“It’s an executive order, Lo,” Derek drawls, looking bored, “Look, we’ll just call another. You two can pretend to be a couple, and I’ll go solo.”

“There’s already  _ no _ fucking drivers working. This is stupid, we’ll just talk the guy into it. He can’t deny us a ride, right? I’ll pay him whatever he wants.”

The car rolls up, and Julian pushes himself away from the brick wall he’s been leaning against. He sidles between Logan and Derek, pushing himself into the not-large space between the two.

“You’re making this too difficult,” he says, draping a casual arm over Logan’s shoulder, another around Derek’s waist, “Let the actor show you how it’s done, hm?”

The car stops. The front window cracks open, and the driver squints his eyes.

“Just one,” he says, “New rules. Unless two of you are a  _ thing _ .”

“Oh, well, you see,” Julian leans forward with a winning smile, “The thing is that we’re  _ all _ kind of a thing. I know the rule says  _ couples _ , but we’re a  _ throuple _ .”

Logan glances over Julian’s head, meeting Derek’s wide-eyed stare as he mouths ‘ _ throuple?’. _

“You’re a...a what, now?”

“A throuple,” Julian repeats, unfazed, “We’re dating each other. I’m very needy, you see, and just one boyfriend wasn’t cutting it.”

The driver blinks slowly. His eyes flick from Julian’s smiling face to Logan’s confused one, then to Derek’s slight scowl.

“Bullshit,” he says, “You’re not a throuple.”

Julian pouts a little, his lower lip curling forward, “We  _ are _ . I know it’s unconventional, but we’re in love. And we really just want to get a ride home. They said they’d fuck me tonight.  _ Both _ of them.”

Logan nearly chokes on his own tongue. Derek has to cough to cover his noise of shock, which only leads to another suspicious look from the driver. 

“Please?” Julian continues, “Look, I can prove it.”

Before either of them can stop it, Julian’s hand curls around Derek’s chin. He pulls him forward, smashing their lips together with an exaggerated moan. Derek looks horrified, but he doesn’t pull away, instead letting himself be kissed a little over-aggressively.

Logan barely has time to prepare before Julian’s turning to him, next. Julian has to push up on his toes to get the angle right, but then his lips are on Logan’s mouth, his tongue sweeping inside in an absolutely lewd way. 

When they pull apart, Logan’s panting a little, and Julian’s cheeks are pink. But he simply turns back to the driver, his eyes wide and innocent.

“Do you believe me now? I  _ really _ need to take them home.”

The driver looks like he’d rather be anywhere else but here.

“Just get in,” he says finally, unlocking the doors, “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

Julian beams. He pushes Derek in first, sliding across the backseat to take the center. Logan follows. It’s a little cramped with the three of them, and their thighs press together. The driver mumbles under his breath, then turns the radio up to tune out any noise they might make.

“That,” Derek hisses, leaning in close, “Was fucking  _ insane _ .”

Julian hums, “Yeah, maybe. But you both grabbed my ass during that kiss, so it doesn’t seem you minded too much.”

Logan feels his face heat up. He can see Derek turn away rapidly, pretending to stare out the window. But between them, Julian seems unaffected. He hums along to the radio, one hand resting on each of his friend’s thighs.

It’s gonna be a long few weeks.


	2. Post Apocalyptic Warlord Potential

It’s finally -- blessedly -- quiet. Logan’s grown bored of tapping out every song in his repertoire on piano. Julian has stopped complaining about his hunger, satiated after being thrown half a pack of Oreos and a bag of Doritos. Derek can finally hear himself  _ think _ , though he realizes he doesn’t have much to think about.

He looks over. Logan’s folded forward over the keyboard Julian had gifted him a few birthdays ago, his chin resting on his arms, his eyes unfocused. Julian’s curled up in front of the window, phone in hand, frowning at something. He glances up, fixing Derek with a critical stare. It’s a little disconcerting, and he feels a little like he’s being sized up. After a few long moments, Julian turns to Logan and does the same. His lips purse, and he glances back at Derek.

“Hey, D?” he asks, “Could you flex for me real quick?”

“...excuse me?”

“Flex.”

Derek doesn’t understand, but what the hell. He’s bored. He shifts against the bed he’s been resting on, pulling up his shirt sleeve a bit as he flexes a bicep. He’s pretty proud of his progress lately. It’s nice to show it off for  _ someone _ , even if that someone is just Julian.

“Hm,” Julian hums, then turns away, “Logan. Flex.”

The blonde makes a noise of confusion, lifting his head from his arms, “Why?”

“Just do it.”

Logan blinks slowly, turning to give Derek a  _ what the fuck _ expression. When Derek just shrugs, Logan sits up. He raises one arm and flexes.

Julian frowns. He turns to Derek again, squinting his eyes in concentration.

“You gonna tell us what that was for? You’re not working on a rating of every guy in school, are you?”

Julian scoffs, “Please, I finished that the first hour we were stuck here. This is something else.”

“Would you like to share with the class?”

“Not really,” Julian swings his legs down from his seat, still peering between his two friends, “Would you two both say you have natural leadership potential?”

“I’m the captain of  _ multiple _ sports teams.”

“And I’m Prefect, so…”

“Yeah,” Julian sighs, looking torn, “That’s the problem. It’s kind of both, isn’t it?”

“ _ What’s _ kind of both?”

Julian ignores the question, “Have either of you shot a gun before?”

“No,” they both say, and Logan scowls, “Seriously, Jules, what is this?”

Julian looks lost in thought, “Neither of you, hm? Fuck, maybe it’s  _ me _ …”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Derek rolls his eyes, pushing away from the bed and making a grab for Julian’s phone, “Come on, let’s see what prompted this.”

Julian shoots to his feet, holding his phone straight up in the air and out of Derek’s reach, “No, I’m figuring it out.”

“Show me!” Derek demands, scrambling at Julian’s arm. Julian holds steady, and Derek curses the two inches the other boy has on him, “Damnit...Logan!”

Logan rolls his eyes but strides forward, easily grabbing the phone away. He reads the post on the screen, then freezes.

Julian looks sheepish.

“ _ What _ ?” Derek exclaims, “What is it?”

Logan’s eyes pull away from the phone. He turns to Julian, his brows knit together.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he asks, “It’s  _ clearly _ me. That isn’t even a question.”

“I think you both stand a good chance,” Julian replies, “I just wanna know who I need to team up with when it comes down to it.”

“You realize we’d  _ both _ take you, right? As fucking whiny and annoying as you are, you’ve seen a hell of a lot more movies about this shit than we have. It’ll be useful.”

Julian grins.

Derek groans.

“Will someone  _ please _ tell me what this is all about?”

Logan snorts, then passes the phone over. Derek takes it, reading the Twitter post still bright on Julian’s screen.

_ @Shaydozer: Ladies it's time to start thinking about if the guy you're dating has post apocalyptic  _ _ warlord potential _


	3. Angst

“I know it sounds like a petty thing to be upset about, but I had championships coming up. In soccer. Rowing. Wrestling. I’d already written my valedictorian speech.”

Derek sighs, leaning heavily on his forearms. Logan reaches over to pat him on the back, but his arm doesn’t quite make it all the way across the bed they’re all sprawled across. He settles for an elbow pat instead.

“You’re allowed to be upset,” he says, “If you want, I could film you making your speech? We could post it on Facebook?”

Derek considers it for a moment, “No. It wouldn’t feel the same. I want my parents to see it, you know?”

“You want them to be proud of you.”

Derek makes a soft noise, but he doesn’t say anything. The look in his eyes, though, says it all.

“I know how you feel, I guess. I was supposed to have a solo at Regionals. I’ll never know if we made Nationals. We’re missing our senior  _ prom _ .”

“You  _ would _ be worried about prom,” Julian chimes in, from where he’s been resting against Logan’s thighs, “I promise I’ll take you to a fancy party when this is all over.”

“It’s not just prom,” Logan says, “I...I will deny saying this, ever, but I’m worried about my dad.”

Derek looks up, “Your dad?”

“Well they’re all still going in to work, you know? Because these pieces of shit can’t just agree on a fucking budget for once. And there’s already at least one Senator who tested positive, and I heard my dad on the phone with his doctor a few months ago talking about high blood pressure and heart problems…”

He trails off. Derek’s looking at him, a little stunned. Julian hasn’t moved from his position, but one of his hands has trailed up to Logan’s wrist, his fingers sliding up Logan’s palm.

“It’s stupid,” Logan mumbles, “He’ll be fine. Michelle’s been sanitizing the house obsessively.”

“I think it’s normal to worry,” Derek says, “My parents are both working from home, so they’ll be fine. I think it’s making Amanda nervous, though. They canceled school for her, too. Every time I call she asks if we’re all gonna die.”

Julian finally looks up, “Oh my god, I’m sending her a present right now.”

“I’ve taken care of it, don’t worry. She has my log-in for Hulu, Netflix, Disney+...plus a shipment of like ten different toys coming tomorrow. She’ll be fine. This whole thing just...sucks.”

“I don’t even know what to  _ do _ ,” Logan says, “Like, not just the boredom of staying inside. But like...what do I  _ do _ , you know?”

Despite the sentence making very little sense, both Julian and Derek hum in agreement.

“What about you, Jules?” Derek asks, “What are you worried about?”

Julian shrugs, “Nothing. I’m mostly just bored, y’know? Some of the memes are funny.”

Logan looks over, incredulous, “We’re in the middle of a global pandemic and your only thought is about  _ memes _ ?”

“Well it’s better than freaking out and stock-piling toilet paper, right?”

“You can’t just be  _ chill _ about this,” Derek says, sitting up, “What, you don’t care that people are dying? That we lost the end of our senior year? That our President is fucking up literally every step of this?”

“I don’t pay attention to politics.”

Derek glances at Logan, who pulls his hand away and props himself up on his forearms.

“Hang on,” he says, frowning, “You don’t  _ care _ about any of this? You’re just  _ bored _ ?”

“I’m just trying not to think about it, is all.”

“How can you  _ not _ think about it? That’s literally the only thing to think about right now!”

“Because I don’t need  _ another _ shitty thing in my life to have nightmares about, okay?”

Julian moves away from the tangle of limbs, pressing back against the headboard and pulling his knees to his chest. He folds his arms over them, his face shuttered. He doesn’t make eye contact with either of them.

Derek glances over at Logan. Julian’s PTSD is a topic he doesn’t like discussing often, and neither of them have really thought about how this whole thing might be affecting him differently because of it. It’s been a while since he’s had a panic attack, but the nightmares are still a bit of a problem.

“You know my lungs are like, permanently fucked, right?” Julian says, “I can get through like, PE or a workout, and I can mostly do stunts again. But if I got this thing I’d be  _ fucked _ .”

Logan’s the first one to react. He goes very still, first, then reaches forward, his face pale.

“Don’t say that,” he takes Julian’s hand again, “You’re not going to get it. We haven’t seen anyone other than each other. The DoorDash drivers have been leaving our food on the doorstep.”

“And I’ve been Lysol-ing the bags before we pick them up,” Derek adds, “You’re not gonna get it.”

“But if I  _ did _ …”

“You’d be fine,” Logan says firmly, sounding like he’s reassuring himself more than Julian, “We’d get you the best doctors. And you’re rich  _ and _ famous, you’d be the first person to get treatment.”

Julian exhales a little shakily, “I just...I can’t think about it for too long, okay? It gives me all these...bad thoughts. I just want to find ways to distract myself, okay? I don’t want to think about how I’m missing prom when I was actually looking forward to it for once, or how I don’t know when I’ll be able to see my mom again, or how I’m one of the at-risk people they keep warning everyone about, or…”

“Okay,” Derek interrupts, “So we won’t think about all that, okay? We have a whole stack of board games. You have enough movies on your hard drive to get us through the rest of the year. Logan can read to us from that vampire series he’s obsessed with. We’ll find ways to not think, okay?”

Julian nods. He slowly uncurls himself, and Logan and Derek slide up to either side of him. Logan still looks worried, squeezing his hand and leaning in to press a soft kiss to his temple. 

“I have an idea,” Derek says, “We each get an hour to plan the absolute most kickass vacation we can. Once things are calmed down, we pick a winner and go. Deal?”

There’s the slightest sniffle, and then Julian is reaching over Derek, grabbing his laptop from the nightstand.

“I’m gonna plan the most kickass vacation you fuckers have ever seen,” he mumbles, “Logan’s gonna get so sunburned.”


	4. Derek is Tired

Derek has never hated spending time with his friends as much as he does now.

He’s been trying  _ very _ hard to ignore the soft noises from across the room. They’d started even before Julian had shifted into Logan’s lap -- hushed whispers and stupid little giggles, punctuated with the tell-tale sound of lips pressing wetly together.

Another soft giggle -- has he told Julian yet that he sounds like a thirteen-year old girl when he’s smitten? -- has Derek squeezing his eyes shut, clenching his fists.

“For fuck’s sake,” he snaps, setting down his book, “I am  _ right here _ .”

Logan, at least, has the sense to look slightly embarrassed. From his perch in the blonde’s lap, Julian raises an eyebrow.

“So?” He asks, one arm winding around Logan’s neck, “You’ve made  _ us _ witness worse.”

“I have not!”

“Logan, baby,” Julian says sweetly, “How many naked girls have you had to see because of him?”

Logan makes a face, “Six, at least.”

“See?”

“That isn’t worse than this,” Derek argues.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you don’t think Logan having to look at a vagina is that bad?”

“You two are being  _ so _ much grosser,” Derek says, gesturing at them, “With the...the  _ cuddling _ and the  _ kissing _ and the stupid pet names.”

“We don’t use pet names.”

“You  _ just _ called him baby!”

Julian scoffs, “That’s barely a pet name.”

“Just...please try to remember I’m here, okay? I’m glad you two are finally fucking happy, but I don’t need to constantly hear it.”

Logan honest to god  _ pouts _ , his lower lip curling as he rests his head against Julian’s shoulder. Julian frowns at Derek.

“You know we could be stuck here a long time, D. We’re basically just providing you with free porn.”

“Not exactly the kind of porn I watch.”

“It could be,” Julian shrugs, “After a few weeks in quarantine.”

Derek rolls his eyes, “It’d take more than a few weeks to make me want dick. I am  _ begging _ you to not fuck while I’m in the room.”

“You could just leave the room,” Logan suggests, “There’s a whole house for you to hang out in. Kitchen’s pretty nice.”

“Oh my god, you two are the  _ worst _ .”

“I’m just saying, we can’t make that promise. Julian has a  _ very _ high sex drive.”

Logan smirks. He leans down, presses his lip to a spot on Julian’s neck just below his left ear. Julian’s eyes roll back, and he whimpers.

_ “Logan!” _ Derek says sharply, but it’s too late. One of Logan’s hands shifts to settle on Julian’s thigh, his fingers squeezing through the fabric of his jeans. Julian’s head lolls backward, and his lips part as he lets out a breathy gasp.

Derek curses as he gets to his feet, grabbing his book and phone as he goes. He can see the laughter in Logan’s eyes, even as he nips at Julian’s skin.

“I fucking  _ hate _ you both,” he says, swatting at Logan’s arm with his book, “See if I order you those spring rolls you like tonight.”

“I want dumplings,” Julian replies, even as he spreads his legs for Logan, “Please.”

“Not getting you  _ anything _ ,” Derek grumbles, hurrying from the room as Julian moans again, “Horny fuckers...gonna wind up spending this whole damn quarantine  _ alone _ because you two can’t keep your hands off each other…”

He throws his book on the kitchen counter, still rolling his eyes. The menu for their regular Chinese place is stuck to the fridge with a magnet, and he glances at it, types the number into his phone.

“Hi,” he says, when they answer, “I’d like to place an order for delivery. I need one order of dumplings…”


	5. Derek is Still Tired

Logan sighs.

Derek’s fingers tighten momentarily around his phone. His teeth grind together, his lips pressed so firmly it hurts. He takes a deep breath and relaxes, then resumes scrolling through his Twitter feed. 

There’s a litany of updates, and he reads through them. The confirmed cases in the United States are climbing steadily. Italy’s death toll is ever-rising. A gif of a dog wearing high heels -- he does appreciate the attempt at cheerful posts during all this. He watches it look a few times, then re-Tweets it. Maybe one of the girls who follows him will find it cute. Maybe she’ll call, or text, or DM…

There’s a shuffle from beside him, and Logan dramatically flings one arm off the bed. He sighs again. Deeper this time, clearly a plea for attention.

Derek won’t give him the satisfaction.

He switches apps. Instagram is quite as busy as Twitter, but there’s a few nice posts from different lovely ladies, pouting at the camera poolside or curled up in bed. He double-taps those, scrolls past a few posts from the guys back at school. He rolls his eyes at Thad’s pretentious book rec post, leaves a quick comment on Cy’s post planning a post-quarantine house party. He scrolls a little further, sees a post from Julian last night. He’s cheesing hard at the camera, Sonic perched on his shoulder while Sneakers curls up in one arm.  _ Quarancuties _ , he’s captioned it, and Derek just  _ has _ to mock him for being so goddamn basic.

“Is that Jules?”

_ Fuck _ .

Derek locks his screen, “What? No. Who?”

Logan sighs again, somehow even more dramatically than last time. He looks off into the distance, does a scary-accurate impersonation of a forlorn Victorian widow mourning a grave loss.

“I miss him.”

“I’m aware.”

“So much.”

“You have, in fact, said it,” Derek reminds him, “Multiple times. An hour. Every day. The whole time we’ve been stuck here.”

“I just don’t understand why he couldn’t fly out here.”

“Because California was smart enough to lock shit down weeks ago. And because New York is a fucking powder keg, and flying out here would put him at greater risk than just staying where he is.”

“But I  _ miss  _ him.”

Derek closes his eyes. Lord, give him strength, “That’s what FaceTime is for. And texts. Honestly, if you don’t get over yourself and stop moping I’m going to murder you.”

“At least Julian would come to my funeral.”

Honestly, having one ostentatious prima donna in their group is enough. But Logan’s doing a damn good job at matching Julian’s level of drama lately, and Derek’s not sure how much longer he can handle it. Logan keeps  _ sighing _ , and staring at his phone, and Derek’s fairly certain he’d honest-to-god  _ whimpered _ while staring at a photo of the two of them.

“I should call him,” Logan says, reaching for his phone, “He’s probably awake now.”

“Do  _ not _ call him. It’s barely nine in the morning in California. He is absolutely not awake.”

“He  _ could _ be,” Logan says defensively, “His sleep schedule is weird when he’s at home.”

“Because he’s usually  _ working _ when he’s at home. Film studios are shut down, he has no reason to be up early. He told you last night he’d call you in the morning.”

“But he hasn’t yet.”

“Because he is  _ asleep _ . For fuck’s sake, Lo. Go find something to do. There’s a piano downstairs. There’s a whole room of books. We have a fucking pool.”

“All I want to do is go outside,” Logan says grumpily, “And see my boyfriend.”

Honestly, fuck this virus for popping up just two months after these two finally got their shit together. Derek takes another steadying breath, tries to tell himself that getting in a fight with Logan when they’re stuck together for the foreseeable future is a bad idea.

“We can go outside,” he offers, “I can make margaritas, and we can use my pool. We’ll keep your phone on loud for when Julian calls. But  _ please _ , Lo, I’m not gonna survive if all you do is mope over how much you miss him.”

Again, Logan sighs. It’s not as dramatic as the others, a little sad this time.

“I know,” he says, “I just...it sucks, that I don’t know how long it’s gonna be until I see him again. And he’s all the way across the country, and there’s all those beautiful celebrities there, and I’m  _ not _ there…”

“Is this because he posted that video going hiking with Haven yesterday? Are you jealous that he spent the day hanging out with a bunch of other hot guys?”

Logan scowls, “Maybe.”

“You  _ saw _ the video. They made a big point of staying six feet away from each other. He’s not going to fuck someone else from six feet away. Even Sawyer’s dick isn’t  _ that _ big.”

The scowl deepens, “I’m not worried about him cheating. I’m just...a little worried he’ll have so much fun with them that he’ll forget about me.”

“You…” Derek blinks, slowly, “Even when he was actively  _ trying _ to forget about you he couldn’t. He’s texting you  _ constantly _ . He literally called you  _ on that hike _ because he saw a  _ tree _ he thought you’d like.”

“It was a nice tree.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Derek says, “Now go get your swim trunks. We’re going to try to have some fucking fun for once.”

Logan grumbles, but he pushes himself off the bed, wanders away to change. Derek unlocks his phone again, opens a new Snapchat message to Julian so he doesn’t leave evidence of this.

_ When you talk to Lo today tell him you miss him. He’s moping again. _

He doesn’t expect a reply right away. It’s still fairly early in Los Angeles after all. But after a few moments, his phone chimes.

It’s a photo message, one obviously taken from Julian’s still-dark bedroom. He’s smiling sleepily at his phone, his eyes half-lidded, giving a thumbs up with his free hand.

Well, that’s his good deed for the day.


	6. Stuart Group Chat

**Stuart Shits**

  
  


**Today 11:12 AM**

**Logan Wright**

Listen up fuckers, Murdoch wants a full roll call to ensure we’re all safely quarantined, so check in and don’t even think about spamming this chat like last time. If you don’t respond I’m assuming you’re dead.

**Brice Geroux**

Not dead yet.

**Lawrence Holmes**

What if we WERE dead I bet you’d feel bad

**Marcus Holland**

Fuck it just assume I’m dead

**Cyrus Huntsman**

Does anybody know if the teachers are e-mailing homework?

**Milo Vergel**

Is this like an official quarantine? I thought we were just sheltering in place?

**Thaddeus Van Wyck**

Did you guys hear they’re offering AP exams you take AT HOME? How are they going to make sure people aren’t cheating? I don’t want to lose my place at Columbia because some idiot used Google to answer the test questions.

**Austin Manning**

I’m safe! :) Got a stack of books here to keep me busy for as long as this lasts!

**Logan Wright**

Thank you Austin, for being the only person to actually answer my question.

**Jason Barrett**

I’m also safe, if anyone cares.

**Nick Gravari**

Nobody does.

**Rory Kim**

I’d like an answer to the homework question, please

**Sean Powell**

I e-mailed the Dean this morning and haven’t heard back yet.

**Sebastian Smythe**

Really regretting moving to your fucking country right now.

**Cyrus Huntsman**

Please, it’s not like YOURS is doing any better.

**Bailey Tipton**

He’s probably referring to the fact that he’s quarantining with my family instead of his own for the foreseeable future. 

For the record, both Sebastian and I are safe. My brother ordered enough food for us to get through the rest of the year, I think.

**Thaddeus Van Wyck**

Uh maybe best to not mention Joshua in this chat…

**Derek Seigerson**

For fuck’s sake Logan, stop angrily texting me to respond to this chat. WE ARE HAVING A SEPARATE CONVERSATION, YOU KNOW I’M FINE.

**Jason Barrett**

Wait so do we have an answer to the homework question? And has anyone heard about this impacting college orientation programs this summer?

**Nick Gravari**

Wright does your dad know more about this? What are they putting in this next stimulus bill? My dad’s wondering if his company is gonna get a bailout.

**Rory Kim**

Dude, people are dying. Not the time.

**Marcus Holland**

Anyone else stuck with working-from-home parents? I haven’t spent this much time with them since I was an infant.

**Austin Manning**

Guys, he asked not to spam this chat.

**Logan Wright**

Again, Austin, thanks for being the ONLY FUCKING PERSON TO LISTEN TO ME.

Austin, you’re an angel. The rest of you can fuck right off. I think we got everybody, so I’ll report up to Murdoch. Now stop fucking messaging me and find a fucking hobby.

**Cyrus Huntsman**

That’s not everybody, Larson never responded.

**Logan Wright**

Julian doesn’t have to respond, he’s accounted for. Now shut. The hell. Up.

**Sean Powell**

So Seigerson had to chime in but Larson’s fine? This is nepotism. 

**Derek Seigerson**

^

**Logan Wright**

Don’t fucking start, D.

**Derek Seigerson**

I was the favorite once.

**Logan Wright**

No you weren't.

**Jason Barrett**

So we’re assuming Julian’s dead, right? That’s what the original message said. No response = dead.

**Sebastian Smythe**

Dumbasses, he doesn’t have to check because they’re clearly naked in bed together somewhere.

**Brice Geroux**

Ew.

**Bailey Tipton**

Can we stop, please?

**Austin Manning**

Please.

**Logan Wright**

AS I SAID, that’s all I need. Now listen to Bailey and stop. Julian is accounted for.

**Thaddeus Van Wyck**

Wait I’m serious about wanting an answer to the AP exam/homework/college questions. Can you ask Murdoch what the plan is?

**Derek Seigerson**

I hate to say it but I second all those questions. Is this going to impact class standings? Will there still be a valedictorian if there’s no graduation?

**Logan Wright**

Fine, I’ll ask. I’ll send him an e-mail and let you guys know when I hear back. Now please stop fucking bothering me, I’m busy.

**Lawrence Holmes**

How are you BUSY we can’t do anything

**Julian Larson**

He’s about to be VERY busy with me. I’m putting both our phones on do not disturb now.

**Marcus Holland**

I’d like to echo the “ew” from earlier.

**Sebastian Smythe**

I hate being jealous of Wright.

**Bailey Tipton**

Alright guys, I think we should end this now.

  
  
  


**Today 7:49 PM**

**Logan Wright**

Word from Murdoch is to wait for the faculty to figure things out. They’re altering the final exam format now but nothing is set in stone. We should get updated syllabi e-mailed to us by the end of the week. He can’t answer questions about college orientation. Ask your school, idiots.

**Cyrus Huntsman**

...EIGHT HOURS?

**Julian Larson**

;)


	7. Stand In

It doesn’t really make sense, that it turned out like this. It shouldn’t have, really. If they’d had the opportunity to predict this, they would have found a way to all be together. At the very least, Logan would have flown out to Malibu, to hole up in Julian’s house until all this ended.

But that isn’t what happened.

Derek made it out to California, boarding his pre-scheduled flight for the start of summer vacation just a handful of days before airlines began to cut routes. Logan was scheduled to arrive a week later, stuck in New York for just a while longer to attend a fundraising event for his father. 

But Logan’s flight never took off. The day before he’d planned to fly out, the whole damn city shut down, and Logan had been left with an already-packed suitcase in the Wright brownstone.

“It’s okay,” Julian had said over the phone, his voice carefully even, “Obviously I wish you were here, but this is safer. This can’t last for that much longer, can it?”

Only Derek had seen the disappointment in Julian’s face, the way his lower lip trembled as he hung up. He hadn’t taken offense to that, of course -- he can only imagine how hard this is for the two of them, with the relationship still being relatively new. He knows how codependent they’ve been since Julian woke up from that coma. Hell, he’s pretty sure  _ he’d _ be freaking out right now if he weren’t with one of them.

They get by, of course. They spend long hours on FaceTime together, Derek and Julian pressed close to fit into the picture as Logan half-smiles at them. Derek laughs from across the living room as they try their own version of dates, each of them ordering take-out and pretending they’re sitting at the same table. It’s sweet, really, even if Julian does look a little sad afterwards.

He’s not entirely shocked to get the call from Logan himself, just as Julian steps into the shower.

“How is he, really?” Logan asks, sounding more serious than Derek’s ever heard him.

“He’s...Julian,” Derek answers honestly, “Kinda lost without work, I think. He misses you. Plus his mom got stuck in Greece three months pregnant, so I think that’s hitting him pretty hard too.”

“Overthinking, then? Stressing out over literally everything?”

“Pretty much. But I’m taking care of him, don’t worry. We ordered enough groceries to get us through the rest of the month. When we get take-out I spray it all down before I bring it inside. I’m the only one he’s been near in weeks.”

Logan hums. Derek can almost hear the expression on his face, the way he’s no doubt frowning as he contemplates something.

“Derek,” he finally says, in a tone of voice that never leads to good decisions, “Do you think you could do me a favor?”

When Julian finally steps out of the shower, he freezes. There’s a white towel slung low around his waist, another in his hand as he scrubs at his hair. He blinks, raises an eyebrow.

“You know,” he says, amused, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to seduce me right now.”

Derek can’t say he doesn’t feel a little foolish. He’s stretched out across the bed, bare-chested.

_ “Keep your shorts on, though,” Logan had said, “I’m pretty sure he’ll be down for this, but I don’t want to freak him out _ .”

“Maybe I am,” Derek says, “And I gotta say, I usually get a better reaction than this.”

“Need I remind you that I’m not a girl? And that I’m very much in love with my boyfriend?”

Logan’s voice rings out from the open laptop on the nightstand, “Your boyfriend is very much in love with you, too. Which is exactly why Derek is doing this.”

Julian frowns, “Doing what, exactly?”

“Taking care of you,” the other two say simultaneously.

The thing is, Derek half-expects Julian to say no to this. Even with Logan’s permission, this feels a little bit like cheating, and he remembers how disappointed Julian had looked during the Casey fiasco. He can’t imagine Julian ever willingly falling into bed with someone who isn’t Logan.

But then Julian surprises him. His eyes flick to the laptop, angled towards the bed, “Lo? You’re seriously okay with this?”

“I can’t touch you myself,” Logan says, “But I can make sure Derek does it just the way you need.”

Derek watches Julian’s chest heave as he takes a breath. Their eyes meet, and Derek tries to offer a reassuring smile, even though he feels just as fucking weird about this.

“ _ You’re _ okay with this?” Julian asks, sounding incredulous.

“I’m not trying to say you’re like, a last resort,” Derek replies, “But this is the longest I’ve ever gone without getting my dick touched, and I’m kind of losing it. Besides, I always said if I ever had to pick a guy it’d be you.”

“You did?” 

“He did,” Logan answers, “So are you going to join him on the bed, or…?”

Julian takes another breath. The towel falls to the floor, and he steps across the room, climbing up to join Derek against the pillows.

“Alright, then,” Logan says, smirking, “Let’s get started.”


	8. Family Bonding

“Why the _hell_ would they make half of this puzzle sky?”

Johnny scowls down at the puzzle in front of him. His fingers curl around a piece, and he struggles to jam it into a space near the corner.

“The flowers half isn’t much better,” Logan grumbles, peering at the loose pieces in search of the last corner of a daffodil, “Do you see any piece with yellow?”

“This one?”

“That’s a sunflower. I need a daffodil.”

“What’s a daffodil?”

“Oh my _god_ , dad.”

“What?” Johnny doesn’t lift his eyes from the puzzle. His eyes narrow as he picks up another blue-and-white piece, and he grins when it fits perfectly in place, “Got one.”

“Fantastic,” Logan says dryly, “We’ve finished a whole ten percent of this puzzle. In a _week_.”

“It’s a hard puzzle. I don’t know why Michelle started it.”

“She said we need hobbies.”

“I _have_ hobbies,” Johnny retorts, “I don’t need a puzzle.”

“You don’t have hobbies.”

“Sure I do.”

Logan raises an eyebrow, “Name one.”

“I...golf.”

“You golf when you need to make political connections. You don’t actually like it.”

“I read.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“I play piano.”

“ _I_ play piano.”

“And who taught you, exactly?”

Logan scoffs, “Please. You haven’t touched the piano in years.”

“That isn’t true.”

“Fine. Prove it later, then.”

“Maybe I will.”

Logan rolls his eyes. It’s a weird sort of dynamic they’ve fallen into lately. The first few days of this lock-up, they’d done nothing but fight. He’d tried to hole up mostly in his own bedroom, but even his long calls to Julian and Derek hadn’t been enough to keep him from going stir-crazy. Michelle had tried, desperately, to force various family bonding activities. But nothing worked.

Until this damn puzzle.

Michelle had gotten it started for them, completing the outline of the whole thing. The _easy_ part, Johnny had later grumbled, as he tried to force pieces together. 

Now, they mostly just bitch at each other over the table. But it doesn’t feel as full of vitriol as before. They’re both primarily frustrated with this damn puzzle.

“Oh my god,” Logan mutters, staring down at the pieces in his hand, “Fuck, I got the daffodil _and_ the sunflower! Finally!”

He sets the little square of pieces down triumphantly, admiring the completed collection of yellow flowers. Across the table, Johnny looks up. His lips curve into an earnest smile, an expression that seems almost foreign on his face.

“Good job!” He says, sounding almost excited, “See, we can do this.”

Johnny turns back to the puzzle, frowning over a new piece. For a moment, Logan just looks at him. He can’t remember the last time he’d gotten a _good job_ from his father, the last time his father had sounded proud of him.

Maybe this puzzle isn’t that bad, after all.

Logan turns back to the pieces. In the doorway, Michelle smiles. 

  
  


.

  
  


“Well yes, Mr. Fluffles, I _will_ take a cookie.”

Amanda giggles at Derek’s over-affected accent, reaching over to move the over-sized teddy bear. She slides one stuffed arm across the table, pushing a chocolate-chip cookie in front of Derek.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Fluffles.”

Derek bites into the cookie. He wonders if it would be inappropriate to slip some whisky into his plastic teacup. Would his parents notice?

As Amanda pours another round of “tea”, his eyes flick over to his watch. She’ll be ready for a nap in a half-hour or so, he thinks. He has a list of schoolwork he wants to get through, a few online courses he’d registered for to add to his college applications. He’s pretty sure he can make a decent dent in his work if he eats dinner in his room, but this impromptu tea party had put a bit of a wrench in his plans.

Still, he can’t really be too upset. Amanda keeps feeding him cookies and tiny petit-fours, and he doesn’t mind doing weird voices if it makes her laugh. Something about playing with his little sister always makes him feel a little more relaxed, like his actual responsibilities don’t matter as much. He can’t remember ever being as light-hearted and playful as she is, and he wonders sometimes if she’ll be like this forever. He can’t imagine his baby sister ever falling into anxiety attacks over homework assignments, or stressing about try-outs, or crying over college applications. He knows his parents don’t put as much pressure on her -- it must be nice, being the baby of the family -- but he hopes it doesn’t change.

“Der-bear,” Amanda says now, her tone oddly serious for a child, “How come you and mommy and daddy are home so much?”

Derek winces, “Oh. Um. That’s because...a lot of people are getting sick right now. So it’s safer to stay home, so you don’t get sick.”

Amanda makes a face, “I don’t like being sick.”

“I know, Panda. Neither do I.”

“I like you being home lots.”

Derek smiles. He leans over the table, presses a kiss to her forehead. It’s sticky.

“I like being home, too. I get to spend more time with you.”

She giggles, delicately picking up the pink plastic teacup in front of her and sipping with an outstretched pinky finger. She turns to a stuffed lion next, pushes an Oreo against its mouth and makes quiet chomping sounds. Derek watches her, amused, and picks up a strawberry pastry for himself. 

Ernest walks in, faltering a bit when he sees his nearly-grown son sitting in a chair meant for a child. He frowns at the mess on the table.

“What’s going on?”

“Tea party!” Amanda chirps brightly, waving her cup in the air. It spills across the carpet, and Derek’s relieved that he only filled the teapot with water.

“For Mrs. Kitty’s birthday,” Derek adds solemnly, gesturing at the stuffed cat Julian had gifted Amanda on her last birthday, “We made party hats.”

“I can see that,” Ernest says, eyeing the sparkly blue paper cone on Derek’s head, “Seems like a lot of sugar.”

“Mommy gave it to me!” Amanda offers, not noticing the disapproval in their father’s voice, “I promised to play _quiet_.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You wanna play too, daddy?” 

He won’t say yes. Derek _knows_ he won’t say yes. He can’t remember ever seeing his father actually let loose. Hell, the only time he remembers playing with his dad himself had been the summer he trained for Little League…

“Yeah,” Ernest says, after a quick glance down at his tablet, “Yeah, I think I have some time before my next Zoom meeting.”

Derek nearly spits out his mouthful of water when his father plops down, cross-legged, at the small table. He picks up a yellow teacup, looking a bit hesitant, and glances at Derek.

“So...it’s Mrs. Kitty’s birthday, hm?”

“Yeah.”

“And...this is?”

“Mr. Fluffles.”

“Right,” Ernest looks a bit uncomfortable, looks monumentally out of place, “And...this?”

“Princess Wonder Woman.”

“...right.”

Amanda beams, reaching for the teapot, “You wanna drink, daddy?”

“Sure, princess, I’ll take some tea.”

  
  


.

  
  


“Do I really have to answer that one?” Julian says, laughing, “I think it’s pretty much public knowledge that my favorite lollipop flavor is cherry, okay?”

He grins, watches the next round of comments roll in. There’s a few questions he doesn’t feel particularly inclined to answer, a string of comments that aren’t questions at all. But then…

“Oh. Wow, okay. So um...someone asked if what happened to me last year is making this any harder.”

He pauses a moment, considering. There’s an explosion of comments on-screen, some angry at the original asker.

“It’s a good question, actually,” Julian says, slowly, “Um...look, I don’t think anyone would say this whole thing is _easy,_ y’know? I don’t really know if what...if what happened is making this worse for me. I can tell you I do miss my friends a lot. FaceTime calls really don’t feel the same. But I know I’m safe here. I have my mom. Her boyfriend came to stay with us too, so at least there’s always someone to talk to. We’re ordering all our food. We have a pool, so I’ve been swimming a lot. It’s...I’m pretty lucky, I think. I know a lot of people aren’t.”

He doesn’t really feel like adding more. He _can’t_ , without getting more personal than he feels comfortable with. But judging from the stream of responses, he’s given an acceptable answer. He reads over the incoming comments, biting his lip a little.

“Oh, yeah,” he says at one, “I am donating, obviously. I can put a link in my story, if you guys want. My mom’s been doing a lot, too. I’ll ask if I can make a post for her.”

Another stream of comments. There aren’t as many questions this time, and when he glances at the timestamp on the video he realizes he’s been talking long enough.

“I should get going,” he says, “I can smell something cooking downstairs, and I’m kind of starving. But I’ll do this again, if you guys wanna think of more things to ask. It’s not like I’m actually filming anything right now or anything, so I have plenty of time. I need reasons to procrastinate on my homework, anyway.”

He grins. There’s another flood of comments, but he ignores most of them. He says his goodbyes, shoots a bright smile at the camera as he ends the recording. He does keep his promise, after, creates a new Instagram story with a link to the charity he donated to. It feels a little self-serving, bragging about a sizable donation, but his publicist has been badgering him about it. Hopefully people don’t think he’s a dick because of it.

Once he’s done with that, he pockets his phone and leaves his bedroom. He hadn’t been lying about smelling something cooking downstairs. Neither he or Dolce are particularly skilled in the kitchen, but her boyfriend is, and he’s quickly learned what kinds of foods appeal to Larson taste buds.

Dolce is resting on the sofa when he makes his way downstairs, one hand resting on her barely-swollen belly. She smiles when she sees him, lifts her other hand in a gesture. He heads over, sits at her side and leans into her shoulder.

“Lots of kicking today,” she says, sounding a little sleepy, “More than you ever did.”

“I’m telling you, I think it’s more than just one,” Julian says, joking, “I’ve been asking for a sibling for _years_. I think you’re cooking twins in there, at least. Maybe triplets.”

Dolce rolls her eyes, “Don’t you dare wish that on me. I’m too old for that many babies.”

“You’re not _old_.”

“Too old to be a mom to _babies_ ” Dolce says, even as she rubs her tummy with a fond look, “I’ll need some help, I think.”

“ _Obviously_ I’ll help. But they have pretty great parents already.”

His mother beams, leaning in to press a kiss to his temple, “So you approve, then? I didn’t expect things to move this fast. But with the baby, and the quarantine…”

“I like him,” Julian admits, “We talked. I threatened him, for if he ever hurt you. But I like him.”

“I do too. A lot.”

“I certainly hope so. You’re having _babies_ with him.”

“Don’t make it plural. We don’t know it’s more than one.”

“Bet you your new car it is.”

Dolce rolls her eyes, ignoring him, “He’s making _Thai_. I said I’ve been craving curry and he said he could _handle it_.”

“And _that’s_ why I like him.”

They both grin, and Dolce glances over at the entrance to the kitchen before lowering her voice.

“I think he might propose soon,” she confesses, “And I just...I need to know you’re okay with that. I know you’re basically an adult now, so it won’t matter to you as much. But I…”

“He is,” Julian tells her, “Thinking about it, I mean. I think he’s worried you’ll think it’s just because he knocked you up. But he asked for my advice with the ring.”

He’s never seen his mother look so happy. She _blushes_ , ducking her head as she cradles her stomach, “He’s a good guy, right?”

“I think so. I think he makes you happy.”

“He does,” Dolce smiles, jostling his arm, “But you’ll always be the most important thing. You know that, right?”

“Me and the babies.”

“ _Baby_ ,” Dolce corrects, “If my doctor tells me it’s more than one I’m blaming you entirely.”

“I’ll take it,” Julian says, grinning, “Now come on, I wanna see how that curry is coming along.”


	9. Face Masks

Logan’s staring.

It’s not completely out of the ordinary. He’s been doing it a lot lately, likely bored by the lack of visual stimulation since their lockdown started. It’s odd that he’s doing it  _ now _ , though, on one of their rare trips to the grocery store, when presented with a whole host of things to look at.

“Toilet paper next,” Julian tells him, ignoring the intensity of those green eyes, “Derek says we’re not low yet, but the panic-buying is making him nervous.”

Logan doesn’t react. He’s still staring, and Julian rolls his eyes.

“I know it’s hard to hear me through this damn mask, but we’re the  _ only _ ones in this aisle,” Julian points out, “Could you stop spacing out for a second and help me get through this list?”

Logan blinks. He shakes his head just slightly, turning away, “Right. Toilet paper.”

Julian watches as Logan reaches for the top shelf, grabbing the biggest pack available and tossing it into the cart. They’re almost done, thankfully, haven’t run into many problems other than Julian’s favorite chips being sold out.

“Derek’s protein powder,” Julian reads off his phone, “That black container, right? It should be in the next aisle…”

He takes a few steps, but pauses when he doesn’t hear Logan wheeling the cart after him. Julian glances over his shoulder, raises an eyebrow.

Logan’s staring.  _ Again _ .

“For fuck’s sake,” Julian exclaims, pulling his face mask off. It dangles uselessly off his ear, but he can’t effectively yell at Logan with half his face covered, “This is supposed to be a  _ joint effort _ , here. I feel like a tired middle-aged mother dragging a toddler around. Could you  _ pretend _ to focus for a few more minutes?”

He expects Logan to retort, to at least roll his eyes or shoot him a glare. Instead, though, Logan reaches forward, tucking the hanging loop of the mask behind Julian’s ear. 

“Are you trying to shut me up? Because I can talk through this, asshole.”

“Your eyes have gold in them,” Logan says, rather abruptly, “Little gold flecks.”

Julian blinks. Logan’s hand is still on the side of his face, his fingers warm even through the thick fabric of the mask.

“I...yeah,” Julian says, “It’s why photographers are always trying to get the lighting right.”

“Always thought it was photoshopped,” Logan admits, his gaze even more intense now.

“All these years of friendship and you don’t even know what color my  _ eyes _ are?” Julian asks, half-joking, “Really feeling special here, Lo.”

“Guess I was always focused on other things.”

Those green eyes flick downwards, and Julian could almost swear Logan’s glancing down at his mouth, concealed by black fabric. But then he’s turning away, his hand moving from Julian’s face back to the shopping cart.

“Protein powder, right?”


	10. A Sequel

“Just to be totally clear here,” Derek says, swallowing hard, “We’re all okay with this? All parties are on board?”

“Well at least we know he understands consent,” Julian quips, glancing at the screen of the laptop. Logan rolls his eyes.

“We’re all okay with this. But don’t take this as a running invitation, okay? This is a one-time thing.”

“I’m not  _ interested _ in your boyfriend. No offense, Jules.”

“Some taken. Clearly a lie, too, judging by the tent in your shorts.”

Derek can feel his cheeks reddening. He knows it’s obvious too, with the way Logan’s smirking at him. He feels uncomfortably over-dressed all of a sudden, next to Julian’s nakedness, settles the score a bit by shrugging out of his t-shirt. He doesn’t miss the way Julian’s eyes rake down his chest.

“I’m just saying, Lo. If I were you I’d worry about him changing his mind about who he wants.”

Logan snorts, “Not gonna be a problem.”

The thing is, Derek knows exactly what he’s doing in bed. It’s not even the first time he’s had another  _ guy _ in his bedroom. It’s just that there’s always been -- y’know -- a  _ girl _ there, too. Now, he’s at a bit of a loss.

“For fuck’s sake,” Julian mutters, and then leans in.

His lips are surprisingly soft, taste faintly of cherries. He brings a hand to Derek’s neck, his fingers long and firm against his skin. It’s different. It’s not terrible.

“Don’t scare him too bad, baby,” Logan says quietly. Derek tries not to think about being watched. He doesn’t want to think about Logan watching him harden in his shorts, aroused by the way  _ Logan’s boyfriend _ is biting his lower lip.

He’s not sure where they’re going here, how much is actually on the table. He’s not sure how much  _ he’s _ comfortable with. But then, as if he’s heard Derek’s slightly panicked thoughts, Logan speaks up again.

“Just relax, would you, D? He’s gonna take the lead here.”

Derek feels the button of his shorts flick open, feels long fingers dip into his underwear. Julian’s hand is cool against his skin, steady as he presses against Derek’s dick. It’s  _ good _ .

“This still okay?” Julian whispers, dipping down to kiss down Derek’s throat, “I won’t make you touch a penis, don’t worry.”

“I think we’re past me having a gay panic, here,” Derek says, before reaching around to dig his fingers into the flesh of Julian’s ass. It’s firm and round, pleasant to play with. He hears a faint chuckle from his laptop. He steadfastly ignores it.

There’s a rush of cool air as Julian slides Derek’s shorts down his thighs, and then his hand returns, this time wrapping around  _ both _ of them. Derek can’t stop the low moan that slips from deep in his throat. It’s a new, fascinating sensation, Julian’s cock pressed up against his own. He can feel Julian’s hand still, moving against both of them.

“Just like that, babe,” and  _ god _ , Derek hates that he’s hard as a rock with Logan’s eyes on him, “He likes that, don’t you D?”

“ _ Everyone _ likes getting their dick touched. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Sure,” Logan says, sounding amused, “Go ahead, Jules.”

Derek isn’t sure what that means, at first. Until Julian’s mouth leaves his neck, until Julian’s sliding down on the bed, slipping down until he’s eye-level with Derek’s crotch.

“ _ Fuck _ .”

He barely gets the word out before Julian’s lips press up against the head of his cock, his tongue darting out to lick and  _ god _ , Derek’s seen what he can do to a popsicle and this is  _ so much better _ . 

“Deeper, baby,” Logan urges from the laptop, “Come on, don’t tease him.”

Derek’s going to fucking  _ die _ . He’s going to  _ perish _ of an  _ orgasm _ while the outside world is ravaged by a fucking global pandemic, here on Julian’s bed while  _ Logan fucking Wright _ eggs the whole thing on. He can’t fucking believe how far down Julian’s throat he is, how much he  _ likes _ it. 

“He’s good, isn’t he?”

“Shut the  _ fuck _ up, Wright.”

Another chuckle. He ignores it. He focuses instead on the smooth movement of Julian’s tongue, the way his throat feels as he swallows, the feel of Julian’s still-damp curls between his fingers -- when had he buried a hand in Julian’s hair?

“Jules,” he chokes out, an embarrassingly short time later, “I’m not gonna...I need you to…”

“Off, Jules.”

Derek actually  _ whimpers _ when Julian’s lips fall away. But then he’s crawling up again, pressing their dicks together once more, and it’s  _ different _ now, Derek’s dick now slick from Julian’s mouth. Julian’s hand moves again, faster this time, and  _ fucking hell _ .

His head falls forward against Julian’s shoulder as he comes, his teeth digging into bare skin in a desperate attempt to muffle the noises he feels coming on. Julian’s hand doesn’t let up, just yet. He strokes again, again, again…

“ _ Jules _ ,” Logan’s voice is firm, commanding. Right on cue, Julian stills, trembles just slightly as he comes against Derek’s just-softening dick. It’s a strange feeling. Not entirely unwanted.

For a minute, neither of them move. Derek’s head stays tilted onto Julian’s shoulder, quiet as he breathes deeply. Slowly, Julian pulls his hand away, gently resting it against Derek’s hip.

“Feel better?” Logan asks, “Both of you?”

Derek swallows, “Um. Yeah.”

“Yes,” Julian breathes, quiet enough that Derek wonders if Logan’s heard, “I...yes. Thank you.”

“Don’t make a habit of it, okay? Unlike you two,  _ I _ don’t have anyone to help me out here.”

“Like I’d let you,” Julian retorts, finally pulling away, “Don’t want anyone else touching you.”

“Double standard,” Logan quips. He’s smiling, “I’ll talk to you later, okay? I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Logan’s face fades from the screen. Julian looks up.

“You okay?”

“...yeah,” Derek says, “That was...good.”

Julian smirks, “Yeah. I know.”


	11. Arguments

“He  _ snores _ ,” Julian says, sounding anguished, “Did you know he  _ snores _ ?”

“How did you not?” Derek asks, lifting an eyebrow, “You’ve slept over before, haven’t you?”

“He doesn’t snore  _ all _ the time. It’s like, nights he’s feeling especially tired, I guess? Or maybe it’s the position he’s sleeping in...but he  _ snores _ , and it’s so fucking obnoxious.”

“Try wearing earplugs, maybe?”

“I don’t want to wear earplugs just to get a decent night’s sleep!”

“I mean the other solution is finding a new boyfriend…”

Julian glares, the look absolutely withering even through the tiny phone screen, “You are the least helpful person I’ve ever known.”

.

“Did you know he rehearses scenes out loud? Like, literally paces around the house talking to himself.”

Derek shrugs, “It’s kind of a thing actors have to do, right? I’ve helped him run lines a few times.”

“So have I, but I didn’t realize it was a constant thing!” Logan waves his arms for emphasis, “He literally, like, was having an argument the other day, and I thought he was mad at  _ me _ , but it was just rehearsal for some movie he wants to audition for!”

“You mean you can’t tell when he’s arguing with you and when he’s practicing?”

“I wasn’t really paying attention until he started yelling.”

“...I think that’s a bigger problem than the scripts.”

“Could you side with me just  _ once _ , please?”

.

“I haven’t had seafood in  _ ages _ ,” Julian whines, “You know how much I like shrimp! But  _ no _ , can’t order any because someone might just  _ drop dead _ at the sight of a crustacean.”

“Logan’s allergies never bothered you before,” Derek points out, “In fact I’m pretty sure it was  _ you _ who made the rule that we weren’t allowed to order anything that he’s allergic to just in case there was cross-contamination.”

“It’s different when I have to  _ live _ with him! I can’t even escape for a few hours to go eat some lobster bisque because none of the restaurants are fucking open!”

“Have you considered ordering something for yourself and just eating it in a different room?”

Julian scowls, “We’re all already gonna die this year, I’m not sending my boyfriend into anaphylactic shock just so I can eat some scampi.”

“You don’t actually want solutions to these complaints, do you?”

“...no. I don’t.”

.

“I hate his music, D. Yesterday was all this depressing indie crap, then today he’s been blasting  _ Haven’s _ new album…”

“The unreleased one?”

“Probably, I don’t know.  _ Blasting _ it, full volume. And then he’ll suddenly switch to like, Hozier, and it’s fucking me up.”

“Don’t you like Hozier?” Derek frowns, thinking about it, “I thought you did that arrangement of  _ Someone New _ for the Warblers?”

“You can’t just switch between  _ Shake it Off _ and  _ NFWMB _ like that! Those are two totally different emotional states!”

“So you’re upset that Julian’s music choice is making you feel things.”

Logan opens his mouth. His eyes dart off screen for a moment, and then he scowls.

“Now it’s Lorde. And he’s not even going to play the whole album, it’s  _ thematic _ …”

“I hope for  _ my _ sake this quarantine ends soon.”

.

“He played piano for  _ six hours _ today! Six! Consecutive! Hours!”

“You like when he plays.”

“Not when it means he’s not giving me any attention.”

Derek snorts, “Like you’ve ever let his practice get in the way of getting attention.”

“I did the thing where I sat next to him and tried to be all cute and he  _ ignored _ me!”

“So you guys have been together for twenty four hours a day since March and you’re complaining that he isn’t paying enough attention to you? His options are you or the cat.”

“I need  _ more _ .”

“Why don’t you go tweet at some of your fans or something? Do an Instagram live? You’ll get attention that way.”

“...hm. Maybe.”

.

“He spent  _ four hours _ crashing random people’s Zooms today!” Logan says, scowling.

“What else was I supposed to do?” Julian butts in, “ _ Someone _ was too busy playing Animal Crossing!”

“ _ You _ asked me to terraform your island for you!”

“Yeah, but not when I was  _ bored _ !”

“So I’m supposed to entertain you at all times now?”

“Yes!”

“Well  _ sorry _ if I dared to do something other than pay attention to you, Princess, but it seems your adoring fans filled that hole in your life.”

“Please, like you haven’t been uploading piano covers of pop songs all month.”

“Oh my god, how  _ dare _ I have a hobby. At least I’m doing something more productive than watching cooking shows and crying.”

“I wasn’t  _ crying _ !”

“Crying. Over seafood.”

“I  _ miss _ it!”

“Oh, yeah, I’m so sorry it’ll  _ kill me _ !”

Derek rolls his eyes, “Guys?”

“Besides,” Logan continues, ignoring the interruption, “I can’t exactly be around you 24/7 when you’ve decided to sunbathe out by the pool all day! I  _ burn _ , remember?”

“Oh, right, I’m sure looking at me tanning  _ naked _ is so hard for you!”

“ _ Guys! _ ” Derek interjects again, louder this time, “Do I really need to be here for this?”

Both of his friends jolt, turning to the screen and blinking, as if they’ve forgotten they started this Zoom call.

“...you’re good at fixing it,” Logan says, weakly, “Help us.”

“We miss you,” Julian adds, “A lot.”

“Look,” Derek sighs, leaning forward, “I get this is hard for you guys, okay? You guys  _ just _ started dating and now you’re together 24/7. But it sucks for everyone, okay? And all your complaints have been fucking  _ stupid _ . You love each other. So just talk like normal people instead of getting all pissy about the dumbest shit.”

“...okay.”

“...yeah, alright.”

“You two good now?”

“Yeah.”

“Yes,  _ dad _ .”

Derek rolls his eyes, “Good. I’m hanging up. Deal with your shit yourselves.”

He ends the call, rolls back in his chair and sighs. Across the room, something catches his eye. A figure peeking into his room, a face just barely visible through the slightly-opened door.

He smiles.

“Come on in, Panda,” he says, and Amanda excitedly bounds into the room, her pigtails bouncing.

“You don’t wanna talk to your friends?” She asks, leaping onto his bed.

“You know, Panda, I think you might be the most grown-up friend I have.”


End file.
